poethree:new poems:"woman."

note: while in law school myani bukar, nasom ngaro and i wrote poems. we co-authored verses during class on a wide variety of topics and on varying gusts of that devil called inspiration. i coined the name poethree(which i suspect the other two dislike) and now i present some of our work to you, the reader. i do not have the permission of the others so they might well tell me to yank it off. so read fast. some of these poems are individually written but they fit into the kind of conversations we always have. the new poems are the most recently written. this is the first one...

"woman."

On a hill in the place of disbelief
Lived a boy of dark and light
And no matter what went up with him
He could never believe
In the imagination of things
The magic of being
He could never believe
In being complete
And so he wasted years, waiting, watching
For the thing he could never be
And he could never see
Far pass that hill
Never seeing the magic
That lived beside the trees
In the place where alchemy was real

He built things by a tower
He built a tower so he could see
The thing he could never believe
But hope failed him
All things were elusive
Far away from him
In the land of disbelief
His fortress turned to sand
The mix of rich and bland
The giver with the missing hands

Until one day of sun
When the thing walked by in gilded dress
The kind that comes together in a total mess
Her hair was the wind
Her mouth was the moon
Solitude made her that much more beautiful
Her scars were all on her face
She had nil to hide
And so, there, in the light and dark
They began to create, a life

There was no summer or winter or autumn or spring
All seasons stopped
There was no rain or dry land or harmattan wind
All nations ended
Time was a bubble that will never burst
They had many, many bubbles
In this life of leading
Where there are no hills
And no hindrances
Only a land of the sacred dances
-this must be love, he said
As they made fish by the sea
-this is not me, he whispered
His prayer for the lasting
And so the story is told
Age to age
If you care to listen
If you care to bleed
If you want to be seen
Or heard
It is the story of all us
Finding God in wholesome eyes
Simplifying till we are simplified
And, then, while not expecting it,
We fall, finally, in love.